


Pretty in a Skirt

by resonae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Jongin’s honest opinion, Yifan looks fucking amazing in a skirt. He’s complaining that the skirt’s too short, and it kind of is, ending just below the curve of his ass. If he moves around too much, Jongin can see glimpses of little white lace, because their stylist had made Yifan wear panties instead of boxers. Under the edge of the skirt, Yifan’s legs go on forever. Jongin decides their stylist is really trying to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty in a Skirt

In Jongin’s honest opinion, Yifan looks fucking amazing in a skirt. He’s complaining that the skirt’s too short, and it kind of is, ending just below the curve of his ass. If he moves around too much, Jongin can see glimpses of little white lace, because their stylist had made Yifan wear panties instead of boxers. Under the edge of the skirt, Yifan’s legs go on forever.

"Man," Jongdae says, sounding a little jealous, "His legs last forever." He glances at Jongin and then snickers. "Jongin, you’re just about to drool."

Jongin snaps his mouth shut. He can’t help it. Their stylists had made Yifan shave completely and had put makeup on his legs so they literally shimmer. 

"Easy on the legs, noona," Baekhyun calls out. "I think Jongin might pass out from blood going somewhere other than his head. Or the wrong head, anyway."

"Gross and too much information." Their stylist says, frowning. "Kris, wanna try on pantyhose? Your legs take up way too much makeup and it might be just easier on the day of the stage to go with the pantyhose."

Jongin decides their stylist is really trying to kill him, after all.

 

—

Yifan might have a skirt on, but he still walks like a man. Taemin comes to visit and laughs at the way Kris is sauntering about. “Why do you look like you’re about to die?” Taemin asks him, “Kris looks pretty sexy.”

The problem is that Yifan is  _too_  sexy. Jongin tries in vain not to stare at his boyfriend, and fails. Miserably. Yifan’s talking to Chanyeol right now, arms crossed and standing with his weight on one leg. It makes his hips jut a little to the side, making the skirt ride up a little so Jongin can see little glimpses of lace. Yifan frowns down at his skirt and frets with it, and the end result is that it rides up even more so Jongin can see just a peek of white-lace-clad-butt under the skirt.

"Okay, I see the problem." Taemin snickers. "Unintentionally sexy is the best type of sexy. I see it. Totally see it. And so does Tao, if you get my drift."

Jongin’s eyes fly to the EXO-M  _maknae_ , whose eyes are glued to Yifan’s backside. He’s got a cup hanging loosely in his hand that’s about to tilt but he doesn’t seem to care. 

Jongin flies over to Yifan, grabs the edge of his skirt and yanks down. “What the hell, Jongin?” Yifan asks, and Jongin just hangs possessively on his back as Chanyeol looks amused.

—

The next day, Yifan is wearing the same skirt, except, if possible, shorter. “I hemmed the edges a little,” the stylist says, smoothing the fabric over Yifan’s ass and making Jongin want to smack her.  _I do not hit women I do not hit women I do not hit women_.

"My ass is hanging out." Yifan says, checking his reflection in the mirror with a scowl. "You didn’t think the skirt was short enough yesterday?"

"It is not hanging out. I figure it wasn’t short enough if Kai isn’t keeling over or sweeping you off into a closet somewhere." Their stylist tests the elastic at the waist and hooks it up a little. "Okay, but I guess any shorter is a no-go, or your butt really will show. Shame. Well, you still have legs longer than a giraffe’s neck, so you’re going to have the best legs out of the bunch."  

Jongin fights the urge to tackle Yifan to the ground and fuck him in the middle of the practice room, fuck be damned whoever’s watching. He instead manages to ask, “Who else is in the performance?”

Yifan frowns. “Uh. I don’t know. Some one from MBLAQ? 2PM?”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “Was the goal to pick people that don’t fit the girly archetype at all? Well, I guess Kris-hyung looks okay. Prettier than I thought…”

Yifan  _is_  pretty. With his intense eyebrows covered by blonde bangs, his eyes are round and puppy-like, even feminine. Their stylist had used a soft pencil liner to soften out the edges and smudged it (Jongin thinks it has a I-just-got-fucked feel, but that might be because Jongin associates Yifan looking worn out with that). And the highlight of the makeup, Jongin thinks, is Kris’ small, pink mouth, where their stylist has put a generous amount of shimmery pink gloss. Their stylist hums. “What do you think about wearing a wig?”

"Ha, no." Yifan says, scowling. "No, noona. No."

"But you’d look so pretty with one of those curly ones we have. Okay, I’m gonna go get it."

"Noona!" Yifan protests, but she’s already out the door.

—

Yifan, it turns out, does look pretty with a wavy-haired wig. It’s the exact shade of Yifan’s blonde, and he fusses with it. But their stylist is humming, tying loose, purposely messy braids, and Minseok starts taking pictures. “Minseok.” Yifan begs, but Minseok only smiles and takes more photos. “Noona, I look like a  _girl_.”

"But that’s exactly the point." Their stylist reminds him, tousling the ends of the wig to make it look natural. "Okay, this is a good look. I like this look. Kai? What do you think?"

Yifan glances at him and Jongin can’t speak. He likes Yifan the way he is - tall, lanky with too long arms and legs and huge hands and feet. Yifan is good looking to a fault, and Jongin had never really thought he had feminine features until he let his bangs down and covered his eyebrows for ‘Miracles in December’. 

Now Yifan’s standing in the middle of the dance practice studio, wide eyes lined with smudged eyeliner blinking at him. His skirt is way too short and his loose t-shirt covers his angular frame. Minus the huge sneakers that throw off the outfit a bit, Yifan could be a girl. A really tall girl, but a really pretty one, too.

"Sneakers," Jongin manages to croak.

Chanyeol laughs. “Noona, I think you broke Jongin.”

—

"You think I look weird?" Yifan demands. He’s still wearing the skirt and pantyhose in their dorm, in Jongin’s room, and Jongin thinks he might hyperventilate.

"Why would you say that?" Jongin manages to croak, staring determinedly at a point beyond Yifan’s ear. He’s taken the wig off and the lip gloss had smudged off after a while, but the eyeliner’s stayed. It’s making Jongin not be able to think straight.

Yifan’s hands reach up to grab his face and Yifan makes him look into his eyes. His eyeliner lined eyes. “You won’t look at me. If  _you_  don’t think I look good like this, who’s going to? Screw this. I’m gonna tell noona I can’t do this-“

"Wait, wait." Jongin says, laughing because what Yifan’s saying is so ridiculous. "No, hyung, you’ve got it all wrong. I can’t look at you because you look too good like this." Yifan blinks at him, confused. Jongin reaches up a little to press their lips together briefly. "I never thought you’d look so hot in a skirt."

The confusion leaves Yifan’s face and a wily smirk crosses his lips instead. “Oh, so you’d want to tap this?” Yifan pulls Jongin closer, grinning seductively, and Jongin grinds his hips up, shoving his rapidly filling cock against Yifan’s. Yifan isn’t hard yet, but Jongin will fix that soon. “I didn’t know you had a skirt fetish.”

Jongin pushes Yifan down to his bed, and Yifan grins up at him, letting his knees fall apart. The skirt is long enough to cover everything - and why is it that at this exact moment the skirt is suddenly not short enough? But Jongin can see Yifan’s getting hard beneath its folds. “I don’t have a skirt fetish.” Jongin breathes, nudging Yifan’s legs further apart so he can settle in between them. “I have a Wu Yifan fetish.”

"Mm, I could see you might have a problem, then, since you’re dating Wu Yifan." Yifan snickers, rubbing at the tent straining under Jongin’s zipper. 

Jongin pushes his hands under Yifan’s skirt, pushing it up. Yifan’s cock is clearly visible under the lace underwear and the pantyhose, soaking through the thin materials with pre-cum. Yifan gasps when Jongin rubs him on top of the lace. “I might develop a kink for you in women’s underwear.” Jongin grinds the heels of his palm against Yifan and Yifan groans.

"Noona’s going to be pissed when I tell her I ruined this one."

"She saw how I was looking at you; I think she’s bought another one by now." Jongin runs his hands down Yifan’s stocking-clad thighs. It feels different from his bare ones, and Jongin pushes Yifan’s left leg up to hook one up onto his shoulder. He bends, mouthing hotly at Yifan’s cock, and Yifan squirms, bucking his hips up. "This is obscene," Jongin sighs, pressing a kiss onto Yifan’s thigh. "Should I take care of you first, or will you blow me?"

"I’ll blow you." Yifan grunts, moving his weight up to his elbows. Jongin notices that he’s been wrong about the lip gloss - it’s still there - and when Yifan pushes Jongin over and zips Jongin’s pants down to take Jongin’s straining cock in his mouth, the pink gloss makes Yifan’s lips even more sexual than they already are.

"Holy shit," Jongin whimpers, gripping a handful of Yifan’s blonde hair. Yifan looks up at him through hooded eyes, and with the combination of smudged eyeliner, it makes Jongin groan and buck his hips a little. Yifan’s hand comes up to press his hips back down. "Your mouth is so tiny. I don’t know how you can fit my cock in there."

Yifan snorts and lets Jongin’s cock pop from his mouth with a wet squelch. Jongin fights hard not to come just from that. “No matter how much you’d like to flatter yourself, your cock isn’t that big.” 

"But your mouth is so small." Jongin says, and when he rubs his thumb against Yifan’s plump bottom lip, Yifan takes his thumb in and suckles. "Can I - Can I get you off without touching today?" Yifan raises his gaze. "I’ll finger you until you come." Jongin breathes. "And then fuck you until you come."

Jongin’s well aware Yifan can come without a hand or mouth to his cock - Yifan complains Jongin was the one who made his body that way. But right now, with Yifan in lacy underwear, pantyhose, and a tiny skirt, it seems even more fitting. 

Instead of replying, Yifan shifts to take Jongin’s cock in his mouth. He sucks until his cheeks hollow, letting his teeth graze on the head just the way Jongin likes, and Jongin can’t hold it anymore. He shoots in the back of Yifan’s neck and he’s about to apologize but Yifan looks up, pulls his lips off Jongin’s cock and kisses the already-hardening crown, and licks his lips. “Tastes good.”

"Fuck,  _fuck_ , hyung.” Jongin groans, flipping them over so he’s on top again. “You can’t just tell me things like that.” He bites Yifan’s nose and reaches over to the drawer beside his bed, fishing out the tube of lube. He looks over Yifan, flushed with arousal and waiting for him, and swallows thickly.

He squeezes lube onto his fingers and brings them down between Yifan’s legs. Yifan flinches. “You’re not taking them off?”

"Hang on, hang on." Jongin says, gritting his teeth, and he prods and presses until the flimsy pantyhose gives under his fingers. Yifan gasps when Jongin pushes the underwear away to sink his middle finger smoothly inside him, letting his legs fall open wider and throwing his head back.

"Fuck," Yifan groans, and Jongin echoes his sentiment. Yifan’s had male lovers before and bottomed for all of them, so Jongin doesn’t know how Yifan’s still so tight. He kind of laments the fact that someone got to see Yifan flustered and clumsy during sex, because for a while Yifan had been the one leading the way even though he’s the bottom, helping a clumsy Jongin through sex, but he’s also kind of glad that they hadn’t had to flounder through sex together. 

One finger becomes two, and then three, and Jongin doesn’t know if it’s because Yifan’s tall or what, but his prostate is deep enough inside that Jongin can’t quite reach until he’s got three fingers in, and even then only when he snaps his wrist in deep. But he does hit it, and Yifan tightens around him momentarily before shuddering and groaning. 

At least, Jongin thinks, he’s not clumsy anymore. Looking back at it, he feels kind of bad, because now that Yifan can just let Jongin hold the reins, he just lets go. He’s gripping onto Jongin’s free wrist now, panting heavily and shaking under Jongin’s ministrations. And Jongin loves Yifan like this. The strong, reliable  _duizhang_  pulled apart under his hands, completely open for Jongin. “I love you,” he mouths against Yifan’s thigh, snapping his wrist with a twist, and Yifan whimpers, coming wetly under the fabric.

Jongin pulls his fingers out and kisses him, rubbing his palm on the wet fabric. “I feel gross,” Yifan complains, but kisses back, arching his back to press himself against Jongin. “And both of us are overdressed.”

"I’m planning on keeping you dressed," Jongin responds, pushing his own pants and boxers off, and then yanking his shirt over his head.

"What happened to not having a skirt fetish?" Yifan asks, rubbing his hands on Jongin’s chest.

"I might be developing one." Jongin responds, grabbing a foil packet from the drawer. By habit, Jongin offers the corner of it to Yifan, who takes it daintily in his teeth so Jongin can rip the package open. "That’s never not going to be hot." Yifan grins up at him before spitting out the piece of foil to the side. Jongin rolls it on in a hurry - Yifan usually does that for him, with either his hands or his mouth, but Jongin thinks if Yifan does that today he might just explode.

Yifan spreads his legs wider and Jongin pushes in, pushing the lace underwear to the side and bracing his hands on Yifan’s skirt-clad waist to anchor himself. He grabs a little too hard and the pantyhose tears under his fingers, and Yifan laughs breathlessly but it just makes Jongin even harder. He grips the side of the torn stockings and grips harder, tearing through even more and grabbing the bunched fabric in his fists as he thrusts.

"Noo-na-is-go-ing-to-kill-you," Yifan gasps, a syllable punched out of him with every thrust. Jongin mouths hungrily at his neck but doesn’t suck bruises into the pale skin until he reaches Yifan’s shoulders, stretching the neck of his shirt so he can reach where the kiss marks will be hidden under fabric in public.

He grabs Yifan’s left leg in his hand and pushes it up, bending it at the knee so he can push it high, and hooks Yifan’s calf on his shoulder. He looks down, and it’s obscene, the way his cock is moving in and out of Yifan, the lace that’s stretched and ruined beyond repair rubbing against him with every stroke in and out. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” Jongin breathes, pressing his lips against a stocking-clad knee. He rips that open, sliding his hands under the pantyhose to feel Yifan’s smooth legs under his palms. He’s been angling his thrusts to hit the bundle of nerves inside Yifan with every single thrust, and he looks back up to see Yifan’s face flushed, his eyes filled with wet as he tries to get a grip on himself and on Jongin.

Jongin takes the long fingers reaching for him and presses a kiss to every knuckle. “I love you, hyung,” he whispers, in Korean.

"Love you, too," Yifan responds, in English, and then again in Mandarin, and then Cantonese, and then Korean. He repeats it like a prayer, voice punched and accented through every one of Jongin’s thrusts and Jongin fights not to finish first. But Yifan’s already come once and Jongin’s still a teenager, so he ends up spilling over first, biting into the inside of Yifan’s knee. 

When he looks up, gasping hard, he reaches up to rub the tears hanging at the ends of Yifan’s eyes, and they scroll past his thumbs, leaving a smudge of black eyeliner. Jongin rubs at the trails, smudging the corners of Yifan’s eyes more with his thumbs, and doesn’t stop moving until Yifan tightens impossibly around him and he’s coming again under the lace. 

Yifan sighs when Jongin pulls out, rolling the condom off and tying it before tossing it in the trash. “You looks absolutely fucked out,” Jongin says. Yifan’s a mess - his skirt is pushed all the way up to his stomach, the stockings are torn everywhere, the lace underwear is ruined beyond repair, his eyeliners are smudged, and he’s flushed and still breathing hard. He’s a hot mess and he’s making Jongin hard all over again.

"I feel absolutely fucked out." Yifan groans, and Jongin helps him pull the underwear and stockings off. They go in the trash. Jongin’s going to have to take that out, or Sehun’s going to complain about the smell again. "I’m never wearing a skirt again. I’m not young enough to handle you like this."

"You’re 23," Jongin points out, rolling his eyes. "Still plenty young. So let’s go again, you look so edible right now."

—

Sehun sits on the couch on his phone. Joonmyeon pats him compassionately on the head and suggests, “Why don’t you just go sleep in Yifan’s room?” 

"Because they’ve fucked in that bed, too!"

"Yifan washes his sheets every time they have sex in his room. Who are you texting?"

Sehun looks back at his phone. “Stylist noona. I told her she probably needs to buy a new pair of underwear. And stockings.”


End file.
